


The Famine Wolf

by SluttyHaruka



Series: Like a Princess [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SluttyHaruka/pseuds/SluttyHaruka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fable, told by a biased source, tells the story of an infamous Queen. As I worked this, I grew to like the title character. I may revisit it in a far less smutty context in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Famine Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> (AN: I may rework this in the future)

“Long ago, when the boundary divisions of the realm were quite different, there was a dying kingdom with an old king. His throne sat in a fortress that slowly sunk into the soil. See, the land itself was diseased, sapping the life out of his subjects. Well, the common folk suffered. Water for a single day cost more than an entire working family could make in a week.

“The king remained in his fortress, shielded, at least for a time, from the decay overtaking his land. When the neighboring kingdoms threatened to cease trade, he was finally forced to take action. He had the commoners dig to find the source of disease. Then he had an alchemist inspect the soil. The experiments he conducted yielded no solutions, leaving the king at a loss.

“However, one day the folk awoke to a blinding heat. Something had set the land itself ablaze in an inferno that raged from end of the horizon to the other. The folk had nothing to extinguish the fire so it raged on, towering over even the tallest buildings. Days, weeks passed. The good, gods-fearing people recognized it as the herald of damnation. They besought their sovereign to appease the gods, but were thwarted.

“In that time of great fire, a dark, robed figure came to his court, offering a solution to the ailment. They refused to speak before his nobles, however, so the King brought the figure to his personal study. In private, the figure revealed itself to be a sorceress, a real blackbitch. She told him she would heal his land, only if he sired a child with her and named the spawn his successor. The old king was foolish and sought to restore his reputation so he agreed.

“From that one night, she conceived. With a sneer on her lips, she did as she promised. She then seized a part of the fortress for her own. None of the servants saw her during the day, but wicked sounds could be heard far across the land at night. There were screams and cackles, none of which were the whore’s. In fact, as her due date neared, she seemed to disappear entirely. 

“When the time came, the sounds stopped. It was days before a brave man ventured into those dark chambers to find the bastard she had expelled from her womb. The babe merely giggled upon seeing the man, sat upon her mother’s blood soaked robe. The whore was nowhere to be found and searches of the area for an explanation of the ghastly presence that had haunted the people for months proved to be fruitless. 

“Fearing the wrath of the grotesque elements her mother had invoked, the king took the babe in and raised her as his own. In the years that followed, the land became fertile again and the common folk could trade freely. Even some of the good people allowed themselves to be seduced by the semblance of peace and prosperity. They believed the time of hardship had passed.

“Some nobles claim it was natural causes, but the ever faithful know the real story. The old king suddenly died on the same day the bitch began to bleed. The fool had instructed her how to rule and allowed her to observe his court from a young age, despite the oft expressed apprehension of his nobles. As he grew weak, decrepit, she learned how to control his subjects to further her own agenda. While he took to being bedridden in his final months, tales of her deception, her whoring, her malice spread throughout the kingdom and then beyond into the neighboring lands.

“It was known that any time she actually did visit him, she did not weep. She rejected consolation. Instead, she removed the acting regent and took her father’s place on the throne. Even before being crowned officially, she lorded over the common folk, holding trials and ordering executions of those that opposed her.

“Then came the day of her bleeding. She sat upon the throne in a light dress. At first only one or two people noticed, but as the crimson stain grew in her lap, leaking onto the floor, the nobles pleaded for her to leave the room. She laughed and unfolded her legs, commanding the nobles to continue the proceedings. When the common folk were sent home for the day, she went directly to the king’s chambers. He died later that night.

“While the subjects mourned the loss of the damn fool, the bitch broke tradition and his body burned before the fortress’ gates. Common folk and nobles alike were outraged and attempted to stop the desecration of the fallen king’s body, but her compliant soldiers forced them back. Some were beaten bloody, some were slain. 

“The regent, still in her bloodied clothes from the day prior, stood upon a crate as the good people cursed and spat upon her. She remained quiet. A particularly brave carpenter reached into his pants and flung his shit at her. Then another threw a rock. One of her minions rushed to her aide, but she stopped the woman and continued to stand quietly. Her calm cooled the angry crowd, their rage giving way to unease. The pyre licked the sky as they nervously awaited what deviant horrors she would unleash on them.

“The people jumped back as she slowly raised her arms. Her gaze passed through the crowd, locking eyes with each member individually. They cowered, the anticipation of retribution growing - retribution that didn’t come. Instead, the regent lowering her arms shocked the people all the more. She bent down to pick up the rock and cradled it in her hands.

“‘It is bold for a lesser born to assault their sovereign. I am actually impressed. Come forth, rock thrower, so that I may look upon you.’

“She motioned for her soldier to return to her station and scanned the crowd. At first, no one moved. Then a large man shoved a portly woman forward. She looked frightened but continued forward at the regent’s beckoning. The bleeding woman looked upon the lamb with a warm smile on her lips. It almost appeared serene as fresh blood splattered her lips.

“The weapon struck the poor woman’s head hard and fast, again and again. She hadn’t managed to turn around before falling to the ground, dead. The regent continued to deliver blows until what was inside the woman’s skull began leaking out. Clutching the rock in her left hand, the regent reached her right into the dead woman’s open gash. She swirled her fingers about and brought them to her lips, suckling the gore from them. The loved ones of the dead woman wept for their loss, but were startled into silence as the murderer turned to face them, all of them.

“‘His fortress will not suit me. You will build me a larger, stronger one. You have one year, starting tomorrow.’

“In the days that followed, she was crowned and the work on her new stronghold began. Whatever those dark forces were that brought her into being, she nurtured them into her queenhood. She allowed the subjects to bury the dead woman, minus her head. She would often leave the old fortress and stalk amongst the people as they slaved away at the construction. Her loathsome minions remained loyal to her even after her vulgar display and cruelly enforced her will.

“As the months passed, the good people met in secret and plotted their liberation from the murderess. On a particularly hot day, they cornered one of her concubines. The noble, who was well known as one her supporters, begged for mercy and claimed to be plotting her downfall. They slew him. Their cause was just and true.

“But the gods themselves were bewitched by the whore. The good people were observed by her lieutenant who rallied her unit to move against them. In the name of a wolf, the soldiers cut down priests, craftsmen and children. The wolfish Queen held a great feast for the murders and bedded the lieutenant that night. No others challenged the Queen’s will for the rest of the construction.

“With the completion of the new fortress, the Queen had all furniture and valuables moved from the old fortress to it. She then had the old fortress burned down, starting with the chamber she was born in. Weary from the long construction project, the people were introduced to a new horror.

“The Queen had all able bodied, young men and women conscripted into her army under the new flag of red and white. Her existing army forced all those who resisted to train longer, harder. Months of intense training passed before the Queen revealed that they would be going to war with their neighbor to the north, a land of merchants and a great navy…”

The barmaid stared at him, slack jawed.

“And?” She asked.

“And nothing.” He shrugged. 

She gaped at him, incredulous. Her hands rested on his furry pubis, leaving his engorged prick unstimulated. He furrowed his brow at her, tapping his thick fingers on the table. 

“Did I tell you to stop? You understand what a bargain is, don’t you?”

“You stopped in the middle of the story!”

“Well,” he said, his hand crawling down her back. He gripped her bodice, dragging it up her torso. “Maybe I could be convinced to share more if you let this progress to more intimate heights.”

“Not a chance.” She wriggled out of his grasp and gripped his saliva slick cock again. “Your version of events wasn’t very convincing, anyway.” 

“Hey, I provided what you asked for. That is how my father tells the story. That should be good enough for you.”

“So you just take it at face value?” She loosely stroked his length as she rolled her eyes at him.

He seized a handful of her long, dark brown hair and jerked her face towards his. “Consider yourself lucky you have been spared the same fate as your father and aunts, bitch. It could have just easily been one of those whores who mothered you.” 

“Easy, big guy." She chuckled nervously, stroking a little more intently. "Can’t we just get back to me relieving your back up?” She bit her lip, scrunching her rounded features.

He tutted, cocking an eyebrow. "Ah, how can I be angry at a face like that?"

He forced her head down, spearing her lips with his cock. She gargled in surprise at the sudden penetration, but easily took him into her mouth on the second thrust. She bobbed her head with his movements, slurping his sizable meat. His sour musk filled her lungs and without his halfassed storytelling she was able to enjoy it. Her body tingled and began to want the cock in her mouth. And, at least, it was a very creamy, pale cock, in stark contrast to his dirty ruggedness.

With her enthusiasm growing, he let her take control and settled into his seat. He gripped the armrests of the chair as his breathing became ragged and punctuated by growled moans. She fucked her mouth with his cock faster and harder, nudging her throat with his crown. Her reflex made her gag each time, but she kept pushing farther. Her cheeks and heaving breasts brightened to a shade of pink as the itch of arousal crept down her cunny's walls. Dizzied with lust, she forced his prick into her throat, gagging be damned.

"Ha. Better hope your mother doesn't catch you behaving this way. I shudder to think what she would do to you."

She lifted her head off his member and took to vigorously stroking it. "Who said mama doesn't know? It can get quite lonely without a lover to pass the long nights."

His cock somehow became harder in her hands. "Are you saying, mmph, that your mother has carnal knowledge of you?"

Her green eyes gleamed at him. "...Maybe." She throated him again.

He choked out a pained groan and his entire body began to tense.

"Ugh get off. Remember our deal."

She complied with a smile. "Yes, sir." She loosened the laces of her bodice a bit and and presented her pink, sweaty cleavage to him as he furiously jerked himself to completion.

He blasted her heaving chest with thick glob of cum after thick glob. Her pale skin was painted pearly white and clear while she bite her lip. She jiggled her breasts to watch the fluids snake down them. He grunted in approval. On his last squirts, he rubbed the head of his cock along her flesh, smearing his mark on the young barmaid.

"Wow, that was more than I was expecting." She giggled.

"It would have been even more if you had let me split your other lips." He replaced his cock into trousers with begrudging look on his face.

She winced. "Don't ruin a good moment. This was fun even if the story was unsatisfying."

He stacked the chairs on the tables in silence while she amused herself with her spermy reward. She watched as paced, pretending to busy himself. Finally, he turned around, looking uneasy. "Why do you want to know your great-grandmother's story so bad, anyway?"

As she laced her bodice, watching the globs of cum slide down her cleavage, she frowned. "I just want to know where I come from, I guess."


End file.
